


Colours of the Sunset

by HumanError



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Caring John, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional John, Emotional Sherlock, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Hurt/Comfort, John Watson - Freeform, M/M, POV Sherlock Holmes, Sad with a Happy Ending, Sherlock Holmes - Freeform, Sunsets, Unilock, army John, soldier John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-10 01:08:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3271127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HumanError/pseuds/HumanError
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is as if we are both scared of what could happen tomorrow. I am. I've no idea about him. Even the mere thought of the coming months makes me want to scream at the top of my lungs.</p>
<p>But I cannot. I will not.</p>
<p>In which John leaves for his first tour in Afghanistan tomorrow and Sherlock wants to savour their last night together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Colours of the Sunset

A mixture of oranges and reds and pinks decorate the sky, merging together to create one beautiful burst of calming colour. I turn my head around and a smile graces my lips as I see him, laying beside me at the edge of the lake, his toes dipping in and out of the water ever so slightly.

As a droplet of water splashes back to its home it causes a pattern of ripples to interrupt the still black expanse of lake in front of us, dancing along the surface until it is no more and relinquishes. He does this twice more, his eyes following the movement each time. Pink lips turn upwards at the corners as he watches.

He is my world. The emotions I once thought I was incapable of are suddenly overwhelming, engulfing me in a tide of admiration and awe. He never ceases to amaze me and for that I will be forever grateful.

It is not until my eyes are welcomed by the sight of his blue ones that I realise I have been staring at him. We are both laying flat on our backs, our necks turned at slight angles so that we are able to see one another. My hand subconsciously reaches out for his and our fingers intertwine, lacing together in a way that is just perfect for us.

I press my head slightly forward, as does he, and our lips meet in the middle, pressing together in a tender kiss. His stubble rubs against my jaw, gently bristling over my pale skin.

All too soon it is over and we are separated, except for our hands that remained locked. We stay like that for a while, looking at each other. By now I have his face memorised but I am always amazed by just how extraordinary he is. To most he is average, unassuming, but to me he is incredible. I am fascinated by him and the feelings he manages to evoke in myself.

"Sherlock," he whispers. We are alone but it is as if he is afraid that someone may hear him. I lean in closer, shifting downwards so my head is resting underneath his chin. He manoeuvres himself so that I am sitting between his legs, my back touching against his chest. We both look out towards the lake again, a piercing silence surrounding us.

It is as if we are both scared of what could happen tomorrow. I am. I've no idea about him. Even the mere thought of the coming months makes me want to scream at the top of my lungs.

But I cannot. I will not.

Our feet push against the water together, creating that same design yet again. It is calming, for me and for him. "Sherlock," he says again, this time louder and more seriously.

My stomach lurches.

I squeeze his hand to let him know that I am listening, although I am reluctant to hear what I know he will say.

"I love you, you know that?" He asks me, his voice breaking slightly on the last three words. I nod and feel tears threatening to spill from my eyes. Ridiculous emotions. "I know you've been dreading this. Shit, I've been terrified too. Bloody hell, I still am." He chuckles but I can tell that he does not mean it. He is trying to disguise what he is really feeling, hide himself to pretend that this really isn't happening.

It doesn't work.

The tear fulfils its threat and it does spill, trickling down my cheek and landing on the collar of my plum coloured shirt. John doesn't seem to realise.

"I don't know what will happen out there." He confesses. He places his forehead into my curls and I can feel his breath ghost along the back of my neck.

The browns and greens of the trees on the other side of the lake have morphed into black, becoming silhouettes against the ever darkening sky. The once mesmerising pastels had become intimidating blues and sinister blacks. I feel cold.

"Sherlock, know that whatever does happen there, I will always care for you immensely. You are my only one, darling. My only one."

John holds me tighter against him, a reassurance. Lifting my arm up, I press my palm against the back of his neck and push his head lower so it is beside my own, but slightly higher. I tilt my head and touch kisses to his jaw, slowly manipulating my body around so I can sit facing him.

My lips seek out his and suddenly we are kissing fervently, passionately. He cups my face on both sides and deepens the kiss, tracing his tongue on my lower lip; a request for it to go further. My knees are on either side of his hips and I squeeze them together.

His hands find my shirt and he fingers at the buttons, popping them open until my chest is exposed. I glance up at the sky again and I can see the stars.

"Swim with me, John." I say.

And so we swim.


End file.
